AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘I was expecting a phone call, not a personal visit.’
Anyetta delivered a cool smile. ‘Mr Giordano wanted his wishes attended to personally.’
Eva’s appetite fled. ‘I bet he did,’ she muttered.
She poured herself a cup of tea as Anyetta proceeded to fill up her every spare hour between now and Saturday morning.
Eva listened until her temper began to flare, then tuned out until she heard the word makeover. ‘I’ve already had one makeover. I don’t need another one.’
Anyetta’s eyes drifted over Eva’s hair, which she admitted was a little wild since she hadn’t brushed it properly before she’d rushed out to speak to Zaccheo. ‘Not even for your wedding day?’
Since there wasn’t likely to be a wedding day once she told Zaccheo she had no intention of signing the agreement, she replied, ‘It’ll be taken care of.’
Anyetta ticked off a few more items, verified that Eva’s passport was up to date, then stood as the doorbell rang. ‘That’ll be Margaret with your wedding dress.’
The feeling of being on a runaway train intensified as Eva trailed Anyetta out of the dining room. She drew to a stunned halt when she saw the middle-aged woman coming towards her with a single garment bag and a round veil and shoebox.
‘Please tell me you don’t have a team of assistants lurking outside ready to jump on me?’ she asked after Anyetta left.
Margaret laughed. ‘It’s just me, Lady Pennington. Your fiancé was very specific about his wishes, and, meeting you now, I see why he chose this dress. He did say I was to work with you, of course. So if you don’t like it, we can explore other options.’
Eva reminded herself that this situation hadn’t arisen out of a normal courtship, that Zaccheo choosing her wedding dress for her shouldn’t upset her so much. Besides, the likelihood of this farce ever seeing the light of day was very low so she was better off just going along with it.
But despite telling herself not to care, Eva couldn’t suppress her anxiety and excitement.
She gasped as the dress was revealed.
The design itself was simple and clean, but utterly breathtaking. Eva stared at the fitted white satin gown overlaid with lace and beaded with countless tiny crystals. Delicate capped sleeves extended from the sweetheart neckline and the tiniest train flared out in a beautiful arc. At the back, more crystals had been embedded in mother-of-pearl buttons that went from nape to waist. Unable to resist, Eva reached out to touch the dress, then pulled herself back.
There was no point falling in love with a dress she’d never wear. No point getting butterflies about a marriage that would never happen once she confessed her flaw to Zaccheo. Her hands fisted and she fought the desolation threatening to break free inside her.
For six years, she’d successfully not dwelt on what she could never have—a husband who cared for her and a family of her own. She’d made music her life and had found fulfilment in it. She wasn’t about to let a heartbreakingly gorgeous dress dredge up agonies she’d sealed in a box marked strictly out of bounds.
‘Are you ready to try it on?’ Margaret asked.
Eva swallowed. ‘Might as well.’
If the other woman found her response curious, she didn’t let on. Eva avoided her gaze in the mirror as the dress was slipped over her shoulders and the delicate chiffon and lace veil was fitted into place. She mumbled her thanks as Margaret helped her into matching-coloured heels.
‘Oh, I’m pleased to see we don’t need to alter it in any way, Lady Pennington. It fits perfectly. Looks like your fiancé was very accurate with your measurements. You’d be surprised how many men get it wrong...’
She kept her gaze down, frightened to look at herself, as Margaret tweaked and tugged until she was happy.
Eva dared not look up in case she began to hope and wish. She murmured appropriate responses and turned this way and that when asked and breathed a sigh of relief when the ordeal was over. The moment Margaret zipped up the bag and left, Eva escaped to her suite. Putting her headphones on, she activated the music app on her tablet and proceeded to drown out her thoughts the best way she knew how.
But this time no amount of doing what she loved best could obliterate the thoughts tumbling through her head.
At seventeen when her periods had got heavier and more painful with each passing month, she’d attributed it to life’s natural cycle. But when stronger painkillers had barely alleviated the pain, she’d begun to suspect something major was wrong.
